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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374548">Valhalla</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock'>NamelesslyNightlock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Going Down Swinging [97]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Death, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Feels, Kissing, Knives, M/M, No good options, Sad Ending, Swordfighting, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trial by Combat, Vikings, Violence, fight to the death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Accused of treason, Loki will face a trial by combat– and Anthony can’t just stand by and watch it happen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Going Down Swinging [97]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>186</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Valhalla</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Prompt</b>— <i>“Your life was my life’s best part.”</i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anthony’s sword felt heavy in his hands, heavier than it ever had before. Yet he held it firmly, his fingers curled around the leather-wrapped hilt, the weapon no less an extension of himself than it had ever been.</p>
<p>He had never loathed his sword as much as he did in that moment– though he knew that if he were successful, he would loathe it further still.</p>
<p>There was a tension running through his body that he did not normally feel before a fight, and he knew that if he could not shake it away, it would be to his disadvantage. And even though he knew success would bring self-hatred, he… he <em>couldn’t</em> allow himself to lose.</p>
<p>He wanted to live. He had things to do, promises to keep– he wanted to keep on <em>living.</em> That would be hard, once all was said and done, he knew that. But he also knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t ever be forgiven by the one who loved him.</p>
<p>Of course, the ideal scenario would be if this fight did not need to go ahead at all.</p>
<p>But that was not a choice for him– if he left or escaped, someone else would merely take his place, and that was something that Anthony simply could not accept. For he had the best chance of making this fight end clean. He knew that. So he had to stay, because to allow anyone else to botch this up would leave him with even more guilt than a victory.</p>
<p>Triumph would taste of ash. But the guilt of running would bear down on him worse.</p>
<p>So his sword was heavy, but he held it, and he knew it would not falter.</p>
<p>It would drive straight through the heart that he had been gifted so long ago, the heart he had sworn never to break.</p>
<p>Sometimes… the only way to ensure a promise is kept is to shatter it entirely.</p>
<p>When Loki had been torn from his <em>rightful </em>throne and accused of highest treason, Anthony had known what the punishment would be. But he’d been expecting an axe, something quick.</p>
<p>But Thor, trueborn son of the sickly king, had decreed otherwise.</p>
<p>Because Thor loved his brother, he used very ounce of clout he had to demand something that the whole city of Asgard viewed as a <em>mercy– </em>he gave Loki the chance to die not as a traitor, but as a warrior.</p>
<p>
  <em>Trial by combat. </em>
</p>
<p>A fight to the death.</p>
<p>Loki would fight one of Odin’s warriors until one or both met their end– and if he fell with his weapon in his hand, he would be granted entry to Valhalla.</p>
<p>And the moment he heard, Anthony made sure Thor knew what he wanted.</p>
<p>It was… least, the <em>best</em> that Anthony could do for Loki.</p>
<p>Yet, standing opposite him within a square made of firmly-held shields… Anthony’s sword felt so very heavy.</p>
<p>Loki wasn’t wearing his armour– he wasn’t granted that much respect. Instead he wore only vambraces over his thin green shirt, and his brow was free of his usual golden helm.</p>
<p>Anthony, however… he did wear his armour. He was the crown’s champion, after all. The weight of it bore down on him with the same kind of heaviness as his sword.</p>
<p>Anthony drew in a breath as Thor’s voice began to echo through the air. He needed to stay strong.</p>
<p>“Ladies and gentlemen! Today we have gathered to witness the trial of Loki Odinson—”</p>
<p>“<em>Laufeyson.”</em> The hiss echoed over the square, the distaste in Loki’s voice as clear as the surprise that blossomed across Thor’s face as his once-brother cut through the start of his speech. “If you are going to sentence me, Thor, then use my <em>proper</em> name.”</p>
<p>“No matter what you have done, you are still my brother,” Thor insisted. But—</p>
<p>“A brother you would sentence to death?”</p>
<p>“You have not yet suffered your trial,” Thor replied. Loki sneered, but after visibly steeling himself, Thor merely continued on. “Loki <em>Laufeyson.</em> You have been charged with high treason, consisting of plotting to overthrow the crown of Asgard and taking a throne that was not yours by right. While Odin was on his sickbed and I, the rightful heir, was away raiding, you deigned to seize the throne for yourself. You will face a trial by combat, and by our laws a champion has been chosen from among our greatest warriors. The fight shall be to the death. Loki Laufeyson, if you survive the fight, then you shall live.”</p>
<p>Loki’s lip curled, knowing as well as Anthony did that such a thing would not be allowed. Then he straightened, and he shifted his grip on his weapons– two daggers, no shield. But his expression smoothed as he turned his gaze to Anthony. It wasn’t the usual cold cruelty that Loki wore before a fight– it was emptiness in its entirety.</p>
<p>It could not be more clear that Loki had wished it was anyone but Anthony facing him– and yet, Anthony knew that this was the only way.</p>
<p>Anyone else who had a chance of winning would have fought to injure before making the kill. Anyone else would have fought to <em>humiliate.</em></p>
<p>No, this was… this was far better.</p>
<p>Even if it felt like Anthony would be tearing out his own heart.</p>
<p>He held Loki’s gaze, his own expression just as clear, though his soul was crying out at the injustice of this so called <em>justice.</em> When Thor finally gave the order to begin, neither of them moved a muscle.</p>
<p>It had always been Loki’s way, of course– waiting coiled as a snake, preparing to strike only once an opening had been made in his opponent’s guard.</p>
<p>But Anthony– he paused, feeling choked, as if there was a hard lump forming in his throat.</p>
<p>The fight wasn’t fair, it was never going to be fair, but he couldn’t in good conscience—</p>
<p>Anthony threw down his sword, point into the ground. Loki’s brow creased into a frown of confusion– and then understanding as Anthony removed his helm, his breastplate, his mail– all his armour until he was left in the same as Loki. Just breeches, boots, shirt, and vambraces. Then he took up his sword once more, holding it in both hands.</p>
<p>He couldn’t make the fight fair. But he could make it a <em>little</em> less unbalanced.</p>
<p>“Ready?” he asked, his voice a little rougher than he would have liked.</p>
<p>Loki did not answer– at least, not verbally. Anthony could not blame him for that. He supposed there wasn’t really an answer to that question, in such a situation as this. But his expression hardened, and he lifted his daggers—</p>
<p>And <em>then,</em> the fight began.</p>
<p>The first clash of steel was a ring in Anthony’s ears, a shrill sting that lanced through his very being. Loki’s crossed daggers held Anthony’s sword, preventing it from slicing clean across his face– and as they caught each other’s gaze, they knew that neither of them would be holding back.</p>
<p>One of them would be going to Valhalla. There was no getting around that.</p>
<p>Anthony snarled, and tore his sword free– Loki only <em>just</em> managed to keep hold of his own weapons. But the momentary stumble did not last long, and then Loki was coming at him again, fighting more viciously than Anthony was used to seeing.</p>
<p>Loki wasn’t just fighting to live. He was fighting for his soul.</p>
<p>Anthony had the longer reach but Loki was far quicker, darting in and out of Anthony’s space with the speed of a viper. The once-prince dodged more often than he blocked, but it was a strategy Anthony had been expecting– and he held back the force of his blows to prevent himself from losing his footing, <em>used</em> the following velocity to continue through into his next swing.</p>
<p>Had it been any other day, it may have felt more like a dance than a fight. They had trained together so many times that they knew each other’s style with perfect intimacy, and every move felt almost expected. But the snarls that left their lips tore apart all that had been there before– the violence which imbued every attack had them less bothered with defence than they otherwise might have been, speaking of a rage so very deep that something so small as <em>love</em> could not have stopped them.</p>
<p>Indeed, it was Anthony’s love that was spurring him <em>on.</em></p>
<p>He hacked, he sliced, he <em>fought– </em>when he was shoved against the shield wall and then thrust back into the square, he just kept on <em>fighting.</em> There was nothing else, <em>nothing</em> else that mattered—</p>
<p>Neither were holding back, both were aiming to kill. They had no other choice.</p>
<p>Then, with a yell, a shout, a snarl of pure anguish– they stopped. Frozen. Chests heaving and bloodied faces pale, with Anthony’s sword at Loki’s neck, and Loki’s knife at Anthony’s heart.</p>
<p>A stalemate.</p>
<p>“Go on then,” Anthony said, his voice rough both from the exertion and the pure <em>feeling </em>that ravaged his soul. He could feel a drop of blood running down his temple, a slice across his arm, broken bones somewhere in his side. “Go on, my prince. Kill me, have your freedom.”</p>
<p>“You and I both know they will not give it,” Loki said, tilting his knife, pressing it just a little <em>harder</em> to Anthony’s heart. He too was beaten and bloody, the once-green shirt stained red. “Thor said that I would <em>live,</em> not that I would go free.”</p>
<p>“Then move your knife,” Anthony said– then needed to pause to clear his throat before he was able to continue. “Allow me to kill you.”</p>
<p>“Is that what you want?”</p>
<p>“You already know my answer to that question. I am only here… to do as <em>you</em> wish.”</p>
<p>Loki’s expression twisted at that, the rage turning into something broken and cruel– angry not at Anthony, but at the world which had forced them into this position.</p>
<p>“Why?” Loki whispered, his voice low and harsh. “<em>Curse you,</em> Anthony, <em>why</em> did you have to volunteer to be Odin’s champion—”</p>
<p>“None of the others stood a chance in beating you cleanly,” Anthony replied. “They either would have won easily and humiliated you with injury as they did so, or they would have lost. And I did not believe you would have wanted either option. I am your only match, and you know it.”</p>
<p>Loki bared his teeth. “<em>Curse</em> you,” he hissed again– but this time, despite his expression… his voice was a little softer.</p>
<p>Anthony smiled. “I love you,” he said. “And if it is your wish… then kill me.”</p>
<p>“I will not live as a prisoner, as a <em>slave,</em> while knowing that you gave your life in exchange for my pitiful existence,” Loki replied. “I will <em>not.”</em></p>
<p>“And I will not live knowing that you died without reason or cause,” Anthony shot back. He’d known all along what he would have to do, but that did not mean that the taste of it was not bitter poison. “Your life was my life’s best part. If I take it from you now—”</p>
<p>“If I live, they will never allow me to hold a weapon again, you know it.” Loki’s lips pressed tight together. “Anthony, <em>please.</em> If I survive this… I know that we will never see each other again. I <em>know</em> why you wanted to be here, why you wanted to be the one to kill me. There is no other way.”</p>
<p>Anthony’s lips parted, knowing that Loki was right, but wanting to hold on to these few precious seconds for as long as he could.</p>
<p>But the crowd around them would not be stilled– they had only grown louder as they cheered Anthony through the fight, and now they were growing restless.</p>
<p>“Stark! If he is defeated, then end it! Take his blades, kill him, send him on his way to Nástrǫnd! Let his bones rot on Corpse Shore while we feast!”</p>
<p>“Kill him, Stark! Cast him down for Níðhǫggr!”</p>
<p>“Or is it too much for you, Stark? Are you too <em>huglausi?”</em></p>
<p>It was but a handful of shouts among many, but they were all the same—</p>
<p>And Anthony knew that if he did not act soon…</p>
<p>“If I kill you cleanly now, they will think me a traitor,” Anthony said. “Listen to them. Thor knows of our affection, I believe it is one of the reasons why he granted me this. But if the others see—”</p>
<p>“You should not have done this,” Loki said again. “You should not be here—”</p>
<p>“No,” Anthony said, seeing the one path clear in his mind– and if he were being honest… he had seen it all along. He pressed his sword tighter to Loki’s neck and stepped closer at the same time, forcing Loki’s knife against his heart, drawing blood from his own chest. “I am exactly where I need to be. Where the fates have led me, where Freyja would have me stand.”</p>
<p>Loki’s eyes widened, catching Anthony’s meaning. “Oh,” he whispered. “You…”</p>
<p>“Yes. It is the only way for us both to get what we want.”</p>
<p>It took a moment, but– Loki’s expression cleared, and he responded with a firm, sure nod. There was no further need for discussion. This was the only way.</p>
<p>The crowd around them were still crowing for blood, still demanding their pound of flesh—</p>
<p>And Anthony would ensure they got what they desired.</p>
<p>“Loki,” Anthony said, his voice soft.</p>
<p>“Anthony,” Loki replied, lifting the hand not at Anthony’s heart, still holding his dagger but tenderly brushing Anthony’s damp cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Ek ann þér, ástvinur.”</p>
<p>Anthony allowed his eyes to fall closed for one moment. “I love you, too.”</p>
<p>They both pressed forward, their lips meeting in a final, loving embrace—</p>
<p>And they gasped into each other’s mouths as their blades found a resting place deep in warm flesh.</p>
<p>They fell first to their knees, then to the ground– still gripping each other close, still holding each other’s gaze for as long as they were able.</p>
<p>“Valhalla,” Anthony choked, his lips stained red, his bloody fingers curling tight around the hilt of his trusted sword. “I’ll see you there.”</p>
<p>Loki smiled against Anthony’s skin, already almost gone.</p>
<p>And as they stilled…</p>
<p>The crowd around them fell silent.</p>
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